White Dress
by pieberries
Summary: Brittany Pierce thought that she had everything mapped out. It only took one night, one wedding that was bound for trouble, one girl who caught her eye, and one mistake to change everything she thought she knew.


**a/n:  
><strong>Yay for au fics, right? A brittana au fic with a touch of faberry. Title is from the Parachute song. Enjoy, read, review.

**White Dresses**

_one_

"Brittany, darling, are you ready?" Mrs. Pierce asked, tapping her toe against the floor. "Alex is waiting for you!"

Brittany Pierce swiped a thin layer of pink gloss over her top lip before replying. "Coming!" The blonde pressed her palm to the back of her curly hair to ensure that it was still as bouncy as she had left it. Her tall, blonde, preppy boyfriend was probably getting tired of waiting, not that he'd ever complain with Mrs. Pierce in his presence. Sometimes it was like he was dating the Pierce's fortune, not their daughter.

"This is no ordinary wedding," Brittany's mother informed the two. "This is a _Fabray _wedding. Quinn is your age, Brittany," she said pointedly at her daughter. The blonde sighed and looked out the window, avoiding eye contact with Alex. Her mother was constantly dropping hints that it was time for her oldest daughter to pop the question; although Brittany wasn't sure she wanted to. The prospect of marriage was a scary one. Besides, wasn't the male supposed to ask?

Once they arrived, Alex immediately twisted his strong arm around her waist and steered her to one of the pews. The church was huge and beautiful, with stained glass windows on the walls and giant sculptures of angels hanging from the ceiling. She could picture herself with a prince charming, gliding down the aisle, everyone's eyes trained on her.

Her fantasy was interrupted by a thin hand squeezing her arm. "The Pierce daughter, right?" A tiny, blonde woman asked. Her face showed her stress blatantly.

"Yes, her name's Brittany," spoke up Alex before Brittany had the chance to reply.

The woman sighed. "I hate to bother you, but do you know _anything _about hair? My daughter—the bride—her hairdresser stormed out before getting a chance to start on Quinnie's. I just figured...well, since you were here early, it was worth a shot."

Alex opened his mouth, but Brittany placed her hand on his arm to pause him and stood up. "I can try," she replied. Judy Fabray guided her to the back of the church, where it was obviously pure chaos. All the bridesmaids stood in long, crimson colour dresses with hair in complex styles. Clothes and makeup littered the floor, and in the middle of the room sat a blonde girl with a stony expression.

"Who is this?" One of the bridesmaids remarked. "Please say she knows how to curl hair."

Brittany turned to speak to Judy, although the Fabray had already moved on. "Yeah, I can curl hair," she stammered, feeling nervous under the judging eyes of Quinn Fabray and her friends.

"Well, thank fuck somebody can," a Latina bridesmaid cursed loudly. Her dress was slightly more elaborate than the others, meaning she must be the maid of honor. She shoved a thin curling iron in Brittany's hand. "Do something before Quinn breaks down."

Her fingers trembled as she tied up the top portions of Quinn's hair. If she didn't do this flawlessly, she would be the laughingstock of the town, and she'd have the Fabrays' wrath to deal with. Halfway through finishing the third layer of curls, Quinn jumped up. Brittany ripped the curling iron out of the blonde's path, sighing heavily as she noticed no damage was done. The wedding was due to start in ten minutes. She was going to be finished just in time.

"Who invited her?" the bride hissed, poking her head out the door. The Latina bridesmaid rolled her eyes and glanced out the door behind her.

"Who, the little brown one? Rachel? She's Frankenteen's guest, Q. He invited her."

"I would appreciate if you started calling my husband by his _proper _name, Santana," Quinn snapped. "Jen, I want her out of here."

The bridesmaid named Jen looked confused. "How do you even know her? She went to the school in the next town over. I'm not kicking her out; she's _your _fiancé's guest. I don't want Finn pissed off with me on the day of your wedding."

Brittany timidly cleared her throat. "Quinn Fabray, sit your ass down so blondie can finish your hair already," Santana cracked. Quinn complied, popping back down on the ground and closing her eyes.

"I'll just kick her out myself," she whispered low enough for only Brittany to hear.

"Done," Brittany announced five minutes before Quinn was due to walk down the aisle. All the bridesmaids filed out after the bride as Judy directed them to line up according to how they'd be entering. Eventually Brittany was the only one left, awkwardly wondering how she would pull off getting back to her seat without looking like a lost member of the wedding party.

"Side door, nobody will even notice," a voice said from behind Brittany's shoulder. She whirled around to come face to face with Santana, the bitchy bridesmaid. "And hurry, damn it."

Sliding into the empty spot in the pew where Alex was sitting with a blank expression, she exhaled. She had survived. Somehow. "Where _were _you? God's sake, Brittany, did you ever consider how much of an idiot I looked here, saving a spot for my girlfriend?" Alex's voice was low.

Brittany bit her tongue, refusing to make eye contact. He always made it her fault, even if she didn't do anything wrong. "Shh, it's starting."

The wedding was long. While it was undeniably beautiful, all she could think about was how much her palms were sweating. She kept her eyes on Quinn's hair and prayed it would stay in and would continue to look decent, somehow. The reception rolled around and Brittany pushed her bangs back with a shaky hand, running the pads of her fingers over her stomach. She couldn't stay there much longer.

"I'm not feeling all that well," she whispered to Alex as the speeches started. "Do you mind if I go home?"

Alex looked pissed. "Yes, actually, I would. I know you don't like being here, Brittany, but there are so many important people that can get you and I noticed. Leaving in the middle of dinner is not going to make a good first impression. I'm sure your stomach ache will go away in a few moments. What would your mother say if she knew you were ditching on an event like this?"

Brittany pressed her lips together tightly. "I'm not letting you boss me around anymore," she said finally, standing up. She was halfway out the door when she noticed the lack of keys in her pocket. Embarrassed, she crept back in; surprised to see Alex's chair was empty. "Have you seen a man, tall, blonde, get up from this seat?" She asked the woman in the next table over.

The woman directed her to a certain closed off area of the hall. "Alex, I need the keys..."

Brittany's voice faltered as she took in the sight in front of her. Alex—it had to be Alex, no one else would wear a suit like that—was pressing a girl up against a wall, kissing her. As he pulled away, the girl's face came into view.

The bride, Quinn Fabray.

"Alex! W-what...?" Brittany stepped back, eyebrows furrowing. Her mind couldn't register what was going on. "Is she okay? Are you doing CPR?"

Alex laughed. "You're such an _idiot, _Brittany." And with that, he threw the keys to the ground. They made a _crack _sound as they came into contact with the tiled floor.

Quinn slid down the wall, burrowing her face in her hands. It took a moment for Brittany to realize she was crying. Just sitting there, shoulders trembling. "Why is this happening to me?" She whispered to herself. "I was so in love..."

Tripping out from the small alcove, Brittany made her way to the door, where she rammed right into another girl. "I'm sorry," the blonde sputtered, pushing past. Her whole body was in some sort of shock, her breath coming out in small puffs and her hands quivering against the fabric of her dress. It was only a few minutes when the tears began to pool, obstructing her vision. What had just happened?

"You have to be the loudest crier I have ever heard," an all too familiar voice spoke up. Santana, again. Why did she always manage to crop up at her worst times?

Brittany sniffled. She would be lying if she said that didn't hurt, especially after all that had occurred. "I know. I get it from my mom." It was a comment she didn't really think about making before she said it, but at least it didn't sound snappy or angry. Without another word she trotted away, wiping her burning eyes with the back of her hand.

On the brightside, everyone loved Quinn's hair.


End file.
